Embrace of the Damned

by Bast, Anya

  That flicker of hope in his eyes made leaving her safe, dark pool worth it.

  “Jessa?” His voice came out a low, agonized whisper.

  Unable to speak, she smiled instead.

  Then the events that had brought her to her tranquil pool returned in a rush. Her smile faded. Her eyes unfocused as a series of images flashed through her mind’s eye. The struggle. Defending herself. The demon’s fangs. The puncture. The suck of her blood into his mouth.

  How had she survived?

  She reached up and touched her throat, feeling a bandage there. Broder took her hand and gently lowered it to the bed, shaking his head.

  Jessa opened her mouth, trying to form words, but only small sounds came out. It was frustrating.

  “You almost died,” said Broder. “Take it easy.” He paused, then seemed to read her mind. She wanted to know what had happened. “The agent had an ability we couldn’t anticipate, a very rare skill. He somehow reached Halla when she was sleeping. He forced her to drug you and carry you outside the wards of the keep. She didn’t betray you willfully.”

  Jessa relaxed and nodded. That was good news.

  “When I got to the house, you were nearly dead.” His eyes went dark. “The agent is ice.”

  Jessa nodded. “The … family?” she managed to rasp out.

  He looked confused for a moment, then understood what she was asking. “Erik went back to check on them. There was no sign of any bodies at the house. I think they were lucky enough to not be home when the agent hijacked their house. They won’t be happy to return and find all that blood and destruction, but we think they’re alive.”

  Jessa smiled and relaxed into the pillows.

  His eyes grew fierce. “Don’t ever do that to me again, Jessa. I thought I was going to lose you.”

  She recalled the timbre of his voice as he asked her to live. “Why … ,” she rasped slowly, “does my fate matter … so much to you?”

  He stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing. Finally he rose and walked to the window, staring silently out onto the turrets and battlements where she’d seen the dream image of her mother. Jessa stared at Broder’s broad back.

  Apparently she wasn’t going to get an answer to that. It made her wonder even more.

  Jessa woke to a darkened room, the hint of morning peeking from behind the heavy drapes, marking day two of her recovery. She lay for a moment, taking stock of her various aches and pains. Her neck throbbed constantly, even with the nifty painkillers that Broder had somehow produced out of thin air. Her various bumps and bruises, the gash on her head, all of them combined to give her near-constant waking pain.

  She welcomed it. After all, the alternative was nothingness—death. She’d take a temporary amount of pain over that any day. It was a small price to pay to keep the rest of her life and she would eventually heal. She’d have scars, of course, but they’d be external and flesh deep. She wasn’t giving the Blight any more than that, the bastards.

  Shifting in her bed, she moved the covers aside and slid her aching body from beneath them. Her feet hit the smooth hardwood floor.

  “Get back into bed.”

  She jolted, surprised by the low baritone emanating from the corner of the room. “Broder?” She squinted into the low light of the bedroom, just making out his shape in the chair near the fireplace.

  It was the same chair he’d been sitting in when she’d gone to sleep the previous evening.

  She stood and took a step toward him. “Have you been there all night?”

  He rose from the chair and walked toward her. His expression was stormy—his expression was always stormy. “Yes. Get back into bed.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom, and before you ask, no, I don’t need help.” She pushed past him on shaky legs. She’d give anything for a shower, but she couldn’t stand for that long yet. She’d ask him for help with that, but it was too embarrassing.

  Broder took her by the upper arm and she didn’t object. Losing so much blood had seriously weakened her. Having it replaced with superstrong Valkyrie blood hadn’t helped much. “After the bathroom, back into bed.”

  “Man, you’re bossy.” Nothing made her bristle more than high-handedness.

  “I don’t endanger my treasures. I keep them safe and protected, like a dragon guarding jewels.”

  She’d had a cutting remark ready on her tongue, but it immediately dried up.

  After she’d used the bathroom, she settled back into bed. Honestly, she was happy to be there and probably would remain so for the next few days. On her bedside table was a new sheaf of papers. She picked them up. “What’s this?”

  “I’ve been trying to gather as much information about the seidhr for you that I can. That was sent by the Valkyrie to me this morning.”

  She raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Ah, so I see you did leave my bedside.”

  He opened the drapes to let the morning sunlight stream into the room. “Only long enough to print that out,” he growled. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  “That could get awkward.”

  “I ordered breakfast for you. It should be up soon. Do you want a bath?”

  “More than I want to win the lottery.”

  He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll help you.”

  She nearly swallowed her tongue. “I think Halla should help me.”

  “Halla’s not getting anywhere close to you without my supervision.”

  “I can probably wait to—”

  He snarled into her face. “I’ll be able to resist myself, I promise. You’re injured. Do you think I’m an animal?”

  “No. I think you’re a man with needs.”

  “I am a man with needs. I’m also a man with an incredible amount of control and a woman I want to defend.”

  Jessa knew it was wrong that those words made her shiver.

  He disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later she heard the water start in the bathtub.

  Without asking her—Broder wasn’t a man who asked, after all—he strode back into the room and gently scooped her into his arms, then carried her into the bathroom. With reservations, she allowed Broder to help her get undressed. He’d already seen it all already, of course, and he wasn’t entertaining any of her protests. Honestly, she was too fatigued to put up much of a fight anyway.

  His hands were strong, callused … and businesslike. She appreciated that. He lifted her like she weighed as much as paper and set her into the warm, soapy water. She sighed in total sensual abandon.

  Broder stayed near as she bathed, making sure she didn’t pass out, slip into the water, and drown, but he gave her privacy. Right now his behavior was far more like that of a gentleman than an immortal warrior. Jessa was enchanted by both aspects of him.

  Just the simple act of taking a bath completely exhausted her and she was glad to have Broder there to help her towel off and climb back into bed. By that time breakfast had arrived. She ate two spoonfuls of oatmeal, one more at Broder’s insistence, and fell asleep with the tray still on her lap, feeling warmed and more protected than she’d ever felt in her life.

  Broder watched Jessa sleep, just as he’d spent the night watching her. His blood burned with the need to kill that demon all over again, only this time much slower.

  Instead of enflaming his libido, Jessa’s nude body in her bath had enflamed his rage. He wanted revenge for every bruise and cut on her perfect skin, for every drop of blood that had been consumed.

  In his pocket, his cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out and saw the number was unlisted. “Yeah?” he barked into the receiver. His mood was never good, but it was worse than usual.

  “Calderson.” The voice on the other end was low, smooth. He recognized it.

  A muscle in Broder’s jaw worked before he answered. “Hello, Dmitri. Funny you should call. I was just sitting here thinking of all the different ways I could painfully kill a demon.”

  “That’s not a very good thank-you.” Pause. “As
I recall, your little lady would be dead right now if it weren’t for me.”

  “I know you only did it because there’s something in it for you. The only question is what.”

  Dmitri grunted. “Of course you’d think that, Calderson. You’re a Brother of the Damned and I’m a demon; never the twain shall meet.”

  “Never the twain.” He growled it.

  “Nevertheless, we need to talk. Under the bridge on Kass Lane. One hour.” The phone went dead.

  Broder pocketed his cell phone, pissed off that Dmitri had gotten the last word. He let his gaze settle on Jessa’s sleeping form. As much as he hated to admit it, Dmitri was right—Jessa would be dead right now if it weren’t for him. He couldn’t blow off this meeting. Maybe Dmitri would know something that could save her life again.

  He stood, hating to leave her side, and found Erik. He was talking with Halla in the living room. His gaze rested on the Valkyrie for the barest of moments before she turned her head away, heavy guilt still resting in her pale blue eyes.

  Of all the failings possible for a person, weakness was the one most abhorred by the Valkyrie. Halla would consider her susceptibility to the Blight as exactly that.

  Broder focused his attention on Erik, allowing Halla privacy in her shame. “Dmitri has contacted me.”

  Erik nodded. “I thought he might.”

  “I don’t want Jessa to be alone.”

  “I’ll protect her while you’re gone, Broder. You have my word.”

  Broder gave him a curt nod. He trusted Erik completely. Over the centuries they’d had their differences, but Broder counted Erik as more than a comrade in arms; he was as close to a friend as Broder would ever have.

  The skies were stormy as he exited the keep, got on his motorcycle, and headed out. By the time he reached the bridge, it was raining. Dmitri leaned against the stone wall beneath the small stone bridge, just like the troll he was. He was smoking, the cherry of his cigarette firing bright in the dim light with every inhalation. Demons didn’t have to worry about lung cancer.

  Broder guided his bike under the bridge and cut the engine, then ran his hand through his hair. He and his leather duster were soaked. This had better be good.

  Dmitri barely acknowledged him as he approached; he only took another long drag on his cigarette, then flicked the butt away. The demon smiled lazily. “Glad you could make it.”

  “What do you want, Dmitri?” Rain pitter-pattered on the bridge above them, forcing him to raise his voice over the sound.

  The demon didn’t look at him. He gave a loose, one-shouldered shrug, the leather of his coat creaking. “A decent meal, a good fuck, a million dollars. I’d settle for a thank-you, maybe.”

  “That better not be why you called me out here.”

  “It isn’t, but I want one anyway. Go on, just say it.”

  “Hel will burst into flames before I thank a demon.”

  Dmitri smiled. “What a nice thought.”

  He hated that they agreed on something. Broder gritted his teeth for a moment. “What do you want? It’s the last time I’ll ask.”

  “Then what, you’ll leave? Even if I know things about the little lady witch that you don’t?”

  “You’re Blight. How can I trust anything you say?”

  Dmitri’s eyes hardened. “I may be a demon, but I’m not Blight. Not anymore.”

  Broder jerked his chin at him. “So you say.”

  Dmitri pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped out another, then lit it. “We might hate each other’s guts, Broder, but we have the same goal. Neither one of us wants to see Hel win.” He blew smoke out into the damp air.

  “Yeah, I’ve always been a little fuzzy on the details about why you don’t want that.”

  The demon glanced at him and grinned. “My reasons are my own and this isn’t kindergarten. No reason to share.”

  “All these centuries you’ve been working against your side, but how do we know you’re not really working for it?”

  “You really think I’m a double agent? I’m flattered you think I could be so cunning.”

  “To avoid detection by your own kind for this long takes cunning. They all want to kill you, don’t they?”

  Dmitri smiled slowly. “I’m on everyone’s kill list.”

  “Say what you dragged me out here to say and I’ll judge if it’s valuable information or whether I can even believe it.”

  Dmitri made a low scoffing sound and took another drag on his cigarette. “Don’t know why I help you, Calderson. Okay, here is it. I know why the Blight have such a hard-on for Jessamine Hamilton.”

  Broder waited.

  The demon blew more smoke. Who knew exactly how much he was blowing? “She’s seidhr—”

  “Figured that out already, thanks.”

  The demon glanced at him. “Kissed her, huh? Or maybe—”

  Broder made a threatening sound.

  Dmitri grinned. “Uh-huh. Anyway, not only is she a witch, she’s kin to the leader, Thorgest Egilson. She’s Thorgest’s great-granddaughter. Your girl is probably a very powerful witch and she’s some of the only kin the old fart has. He’s been leader of that coven for damn close to fifteen hundred years now and he wants to retire. Carolyn, Jessamine’s great-aunt, wants no part of the enclave’s leadership, so that leaves only your woman. He needs her to take over for him and he’ll stop at nothing to get her. The fate of their coven hangs in the balance. The Blight want her dead before she makes it to the coven or before she figures out how to kill them with magick.”

  “Do you know why she was separated from her people?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  Broder digested this. “How did you come by this information?”

  “I’m not one of the little worker bees anymore, but I’m still plugged into the hive. When the woman grieved the death of her aunt, her magick blossomed. The Blight were like dogs scenting a wild rabbit. They knew right where to find her and she was clueless as a babe. She’s strong, Calderson. You need to get her training, but beware that old man. Above all, keep her safe.”

  But the seidhr had tried to kidnap her. That didn’t fit with anything Dmitri was saying. Why would they try to take her that way?

  The demon snorted. “Don’t ever play poker. I can see the thoughts flitting through your head right now. The seidhr don’t like you, Broder.” Dmitri paused, then his voice rose suggestively. “They have cause, don’t they?”

  He remembered back to the words the shaman had snarled at him when he’d asked about the kidnapping. Because she’s with you, Calderson.

  Broder moved fast, pinning Dmitri to the wall. The demon didn’t even drop his cigarette. Irritatingly, he just grinned into his face like he thought the situation was humorous, although his eyes bled black, giving lie to his unconcerned demeanor. “How do you know about that?”

  Dmitri just kept grinning.

  Broder let him go and turned away, headed back to his bike.

  “You’re welcome,” Dmitri called behind him.

  Jessa sat at a small table and mirror in her room and unraveled the bandage from her throat. Behind her, silhouetted in the doorway, was Broder. He was never very far from her these days. He didn’t trust the Blight wouldn’t try again to take her from the keep.

  She wished she had some amazing ability to heal or something, but apparently witches and shamans healed exactly like humans, though they were stronger in general and could take more injury and withstand worse illness. There was magick to be worked for these things, of course, but she had none. It was a fact that was beginning to vex her more and more. The blood of a Valkyrie had helped. According to Broder it had halved her recovery time, but Jessa couldn’t tell. It seemed like a month had passed rather than a week.

  Halla was racked with guilt, even though Jessa had forgiven her a million times over the last few days. Halla hadn’t known what she was doing; she didn’t even need forgiveness.

  Unwrapping the last of the bandage, she braced
herself to see what the damage was. Squinting as she laid the gauze to the side, she slowly opened her eyes all the way to look at her reflection. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

  Broder walked toward her.

  She reached up and touched the ugly zigzag of stitches on her throat. She looked like Frankenstein. “It’s like he chewed on me.” As if she’d been a dog’s toy.